


Infinity

by Iolaire02



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Run-On Sentences, but there's blatant tony bias, not really anyone unfriendly, super repetitive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26455921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iolaire02/pseuds/Iolaire02
Summary: This is the man who held infinity in his hands, who breathed deep, and let it go.
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark - Implied
Kudos: 3





	Infinity

**Author's Note:**

> This was written a while ago; I just added a few bits and pieces. It's definitely not my best work, but it's been collecting dust, and I wanted to get rid of it. Here: have my trash.
> 
> I don't think there're any additional warnings, unless you've somehow managed to not see Endgame yet; there are spoilers for that, and character deaths remain the same.
> 
> As mentioned in the tags, this isn't unfriendly to anyone - in my opinion - but it is biased towards Tony, so if that's not your thing, this may not be for you.
> 
> Enjoy!

There is a man who calls himself Atlas, who calls himself Icarus, who touches the stars, and carries the universe on his shoulders. There is a man who is named Prometheus, though he calls himself Hades instead.

This is the story of a man born into the lap of luxury, born with a crown on his head, with nimble fingers. This is a man who was born the prince of an empire. 

This is the story of Atlas, who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

This is the story of a man who didn’t look close enough, didn’t watch carefully enough, and then got an up-close look at his life’s work - his empire - in the hands of enemies. 

This is a man who was killed by fire, resurrected by lightning, who built himself a heart made from a star. 

Here is a man who didn’t look at the consequences of his actions, who got burned as a result of his actions, who died and rose from the ashes, burning with the light of stars - of space - held in his chest. 

This is the story of Tony Stark. 

This is the man who flew and fell and flew again, who touched stars and the depths of the sea, who traveled ninety days in the desert. This is the man who created souls as a child, who loved many and was never loved in return. This is the story of Icarus, who flew too high, who reached the sun, the stars, and fell back to earth, fell into the unfriendly embrace of the ocean. 

This is the story of a boy - a man - who flew, who fell, who rose up again, higher. This is the story of a man who shared the wide expanse of the skies with the souls he created, with the souls he befriended. This is the story of Prometheus, who created humans and fire and gave gifts to the world, who paid over and over for mistakes of his own making, who paid with blood and sweat and screams for the wrongs that others - a father, an uncle, both titans in their own rights, but neither so great as _the_ Titan - left to the world.

Here is a man with a mind that learned and created and taught. Here is a mind above most, that is scarred and scared and healing. This is a mind that invents, that fixes, that protects and destroys. This is a mind limited only by emotion, by imagination. 

This is a mind housed in a broken, shattered man. A mind making calculations and sacrifices and _wins._

There is a man - this man - whose father created power, who studied space to make it, and this man remade power, and used it to keep his heart beating. This is the man who holds power in his chest, who nestles it into his armor and shares his power - shares his strength - with the world. 

Here is a man who knows power and simultaneously knows what it is to be powerless. Here is a man who has had his power stolen, who has had it crushed, who has had his power work against him. Here is a man who has fought back - power against power.

There is a man who has no brothers or sisters, who has two brothers. There is a man who is given the earth as his third of the inheritance, who looks at it and claims it and all its riches for his own. Here is a man in whose footsteps death trails, a man the world calls Merchant. This is the man who calls himself Hades, who calls himself Death, and who does so with his teeth bared in a smile.

This is not the Hades you think you know: this man is the man who sees a girl but cannot kidnap her, who sees a girl who brings him the souls of the dead and the dying and the living; this girl returns the souls of the living to the earth, keeping them from his cold grasp, and she never leaves him. This man sees a girl who is a woman, and powerful in her own right, and out of his ferry-man he makes a wife, and she reminds him that while he can steal souls, he can also create them, and so one day he leaves the name Hades behind.

This man has been powerful, has been powerless. This man has fought his own power, has fought back harder - powerless against powerful; dying against living; weak against strong. He fought back and won and learned the meaning of power, of strength, once again. 

This is the story of the man who lost due to time, or perhaps despite it. This is the man who lost, who risked everything, who moved through the rushing currents of time of his own volition. 

This is the man who spent decades doing one thing, who in three months, in one minute, turned everything around. This is the man who straddles two centuries. This is the man who knows time, who has lost seconds and hours and _years_ of it, who has allowed it to heal him. This is the man who has bent time to his will. 

Here is a man who accepts reality, who looks it in the eye, who fights it every step of the way, but accepts what it gives him. This man is a true futurist - he guides reality, pushes and shoves it, contemplates changing it for himself. But when it comes down to it, when he’s given a choice, when he holds it in his hands, he changes nothing about the world. He allows reality to stay its course. 

This is the man who touches the stars, who creates souls, who houses a shining mind and holds power in his chest. This is the man who bends time to his will, who looks at reality and says _I accept_. 

This is the man who holds infinity in his hands, who breathes deep, and lets it go.


End file.
